


The Lightwoods

by static_abyss



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, M/M, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: Jace has been a Lightwood from the moment he walked through the doors of the Institute and shook Isabelle's hands. That's just how things worked for Isabelle. Family was very clear cut. If you were part of it for a second, you were part of it forever.





	The Lightwoods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nixie_DeAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/gifts).



> Happy Holidays to Nixie_Deangel! I very much enjoyed writing this fic and I hope you enjoy reading it. I kind of took your prompt "disaster" and ran with it. 
> 
> Also so many thanks to my wonderful beta [tylerhunklin](http://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com). I couldn't have gotten this fic to where it is without their valuable input.

Jace has been a Lightwood from the moment he walked through the doors of the Institute and shook Isabelle's hands. That's just how things worked for Isabelle. Family was very clear cut. If you were part of it for a second, you were part of it forever.

 

******

 

Jace Wayland became Jace Lightwood on a Tuesday in December, when he was fifteen years old.

*

"You just don't understand mother," Alec is saying. "Her affection is conditional, but her love is not."

Isabelle, who is on her bed staring at her ceiling and counting the number of scuff marks, closes her eyes and counts to ten. Alec means well. He has always only ever cared that Isabelle and their mother get along, because Alec lives under the delusion that their mother loves her children the same way. Maryse may love Jace and Alec because they're both strong and willing to bend to the laws of the Clave. But Isabelle has never been so easy to mold. She chose a whip instead of a seraph blade, and even though when it really comes down to it, she will always side with her mother, Isabelle has never made it as obvious as Jace and Alec do. 

"Do you want to know the difference between me, you, and Jace?"

"I do," Jace says from the door.

Isabelle leans up on her elbows and grins at Jace. She pats the bed on her right and scoots closer to Alec so Jace can sit. Alec is already too tall for Isabelle's bed, but Isabelle and Jace have kept pace for the past five years. They're fifteen, barely five foot two, and annoyed that Alec will probably be the tallest of the three of them. 

"So what did Maryse do today?"

"Mother," Alec says raising an eyebrow at Jace. "Told Isabelle that she should be home before curfew and that she should be careful of who she associates with."

Jace blinks once and turns to face Isabelle. "Was it the vampire from last weekend, or Rosales?"

Isabelle opens her mouth and then closes it on a smile. She can feel Jace's eyes on the side of her face, and despite Alec's frown, there's something easy about this moment. Maryse's anger is forgotten as Isabelle imagines Jace's glee and Alec's horror. 

"It wasn't the vampire," she says. "Wasn't Rosales either. It was one of the Lovelaces. 

"It was not a Lovelace. The ones left changed their name," Jace says. "So you can't even really say it was a Lovelace." 

"Mother can," Isabelle says, and it's hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"Mother is just worried," Alec says. He pauses for a moment, frown back on his face. "Wait," he says. "Which Lovelace was it?"

"They're not Lovelaces anymore," Jace groans. "You can't call them that."

"Not to their faces," Alec says. 

Isabelle yawns, and lets herself fall back onto her bed. She can hear Alec and Jace bickering about Lovelaces, and it's easy to just let herself get carried away by their voices. She doesn't want to think about their mother or the way she'd looked, strong and righteous as she stood over Isabelle. 

Their mother has always been beautiful, cold and hard, like a polished ice sculpture. She walks like the world is hers, but only conditionally, only if she toes the line, if she's careful and precise. Maryse acts like everything could be taken from her, as though Isabelle is the one who will take it from her. 

_"I will not let you dishonor this family,"_ she had said.

As though Isabelle was who she was fighting, as though there was something fundamentally wrong with Isabelle. As though Maryse saw something in Isabelle she could never accept about herself. As though at fifteen, knowing all of that was supposed to do anything but hurt.

"So," Jace says, nudging Isabelle. "Which Lovelace was it?" 

He very carefully says nothing about the tear tracks on Isabelle's cheeks. 

"The hot one," Isabelle says.

Jace takes her hand. "Good for you," he says. "Very proud of you."

Isabelle rolls her eyes, but she lets her eyes drift back to the ceiling. Jace's hand is warm in hers. He's solid and real, as real as Alec has always been. She wishes she could tell him that in a way that didn't sound contrived or pitying. 

"You know mother loves both of you," Isabelle says instead. "She's always been proud of you two."

"A lot of good that'll do her when they finally let me have my own Institute," Jace says. "I'm going to drive Maryse insane."

"She's not giving you an institute," Alec says. 

"Oh, what?" Jace asks, leaning across Isabelle to shove Alec in the chest. "You think mom won't let me have an institute? Think I'm not good enough to run my own."

Alec shoves Jace back, and in the second where Jace is laughing as he tries not to fall, Alec turns wide eyes on Isabelle. She smiles because she caught it too, the quick, shy way that Jace called Maryse mom. Casual, like it meant nothing when the three of them understand it means everything. Lightwoods take care of their own and all that. 

"You know," Isabelle says, sitting up and pulling Jace off the bed. "I think I'm done with the Lightwood sibling bonding for today. Get out of my room."

Jace makes a show of dragging his feet, even as Alec shoves him towards the door. 

"Isabelle," he calls as Alec pulls him out of Isabelle's room and around the corner. Isabelle can hear Jace calling her name as he walks away, and the sound of Alec's laughter in the background. She smiles to herself, letting the lightness wash over her. 

"Hey," Jace calls from her door.

He's mostly hidden behind the wall as he sticks his head into her room. His blond hair hangs down the right side of his face, messy the way Jace likes it. 

"Thank you," he says. "For the," he waves vaguely in Isabelle's direction. "For the thing you said."

They stare at each other for a moment, Jace waiting for Isabelle, and Isabelle waiting for Jace. 

"You know," Isabelle says finally, because she understands she's the one who has to say something first. "If you really, really want mom, you can have her. Please. Just take her."

"You don't mean that," Jace says, but he's grinning, his expression easy. 

"Sometimes, I really really do," Isabelle sighs. 

"If I took her we wouldn't be siblings then, would we? It would just be me and mom and you, and Alec, and Max, all on your own with dad."

"Okay," Isabelle says. "Fine. She can stay, because you have to stay."

Jace laughs, and for now, this moment is enough.

 

*******

 

Isabelle has never doubted the number of brothers she had. Not even when Jace turned out to be Valentine's son and everyone around her was giving her a way out. 

*

"He's Valentine's son," Maryse says. "How can you possibly defend him? Your brother I understand. It's that bond. I should have never let him go through with it. What were we thinking?"

Isabelle shakes her head. "Mom," she says. "You can't seriously be thinking about just leaving Jace with Valentine."

"I'm not deciding anything. Jace made his decision. I'm simply choosing to honor his wishes. You're my daughter and you will do as you are told. Alec's behavior I can explain as an after effect of his bond with Jace. But I will not have you running your mouth off to members of the Clave." 

Anger slams right into Isabelle with no warning. She was angry before, but now she's furious. 

_"I used to be like you,"_ Maryse had said. _"Full of passion. Always breaking rules. We're more alike than you can ever know."_

"I won't let you leave Jace out there with Valentine," Isabelle says. "I won't be like you."

"Isabelle, be reasonable," Maryse says, and she sounds sincere, like she's worried about Isabelle. Like Isabelle is the important one here. "You don't even know Jace."

But, no, Isabelle knows. She's never been important to their mother. This isn't about Isabelle, no matter how Maryse tries to paint it. This is about Maryse again, about her image, her well-being. It's about fixing the mistakes Maryse made when she was young, about projecting them onto Isabelle. But Isabelle isn't her mother, and she never will be. She won't allow herself to be. 

"I may not know Jace the way Alec knows him," Isabelle says. "But he's my brother too. And the way I know him is just as important as the way Alec knows him. Parabatai or not, I matter in this too, and I'm not going to just abandon Jace because you want me too. Neither is Alec."

"Isabelle, please," Maryse says. "Your brother--"

"My brother is missing," Isabelle says. "And Alec and I are going to find him. And you can tell the Clave whatever you want to, betray Jace if that's how you'll sleep better at night. But I'm not going to do that to him. I would never do that to him." 

 

********

 

Jace is a Lightwood. This is the easiest truth to hang on to. The rest of it, especially the thing with Simon, comes with much more trouble. It's easy to pretend like it doesn't exist, like Jace's world is just hunting demons and rolling his eyes at mundanes with Alec.

Watching Simon has become second nature by now. Jace has practiced this enough that he's always looking away when Simon turns to him. Jace catches himself before the stares get too long, before his heart twists to the point of painful. He's so good that people think he's looking at Clary most of the time, because he would be usually. If it weren't for Simon.

He's going to give himself away eventually, Jace knows. Isabelle and Alec are both too smart. They care too much, pay too much attention, and Jace has never been good at keeping secrets from them. 

"What are you looking at?"

"Good Morning, Izzy," Jace says, turning his face up at her.

They're in the Institute's backyard, Jace leaning against St. Agatha's tombstone, the one with the really good seraph blades. The sun is at eye level, a good half an hour from setting, the right kind of orange gold that bathes everything in the softest glow. Isabelle smiles gently and sits down next to Jace on the grass. She smoothes out the creases in her jeans and leans back against St. Agatha's tombstone. 

"So," Isabelle says. "I’m assuming you're doing very important Shadowhunter business, since you missed the debrief for this morning's mission."

"You already told me all about it this morning. I didn't need to go to that meeting."

Isabelle hums her agreement. "Still," she says. "Alec is looking for you."

Jace sighs heavily and thunks his head against the tombstone behind him. 

"I told him you were with Karen," Isabelle says. "The half-Seelie girl from last weekend. Told him it was very important Shadowhunter business. He knows you won't be back for at least six hours. He'll either be over it by then, or even angrier. You're just going to have to risk it."

"I don't risk anything, Isabelle," Jace says, tapping his side where he has his parabatai rune. 

Isabelle shakes her head, and Jace is already halfway to an invitation to a mundane club when he hears Simon's soft curse. It's automatic, really, how Jace's eyes snap to Simon of their own accord. 

The sunlight is beautiful at this time in the afternoon, Jace thinks. It hits Simon from the left, lighting up the red hues in his dark brown hair and softening the brown of Simon's eyes. Clary is apologizing, her hands on Simon's head rubbing soothing circles into Simon's hair. 

"I'm so sorry, Simon," she's saying. "I thought I had that under control."

"Give it to me straight, Fray," Simon says. "Am I going to make it?"

"I don't know," Clary says, catching on seamlessly. "It looks pretty touch and go."

Simon makes a choked off sound, his hand grasping at Clary dramatically. "Tell my mom I love her," he says as he sinks into an undignified lump on the floor.

Jace shakes his head, not bothering to hide his smile. It's only Isabelle out here with him after all, and Clary and Simon are too busy to notice him. 

"They're cute," Isabelle says. 

Jace glances at her, then back to Clary and Simon. Simon has stretched himself out on the floor, one hand reaching out to Clary, while he grabs his chest with the other one. Clary takes Simon's hands and drops down next to Simon, her fake cries interspersed with laughter. 

"Delightful," Jace says. 

He's not bitter. He very much wants to believe that, but he can't deny that he envies the easy friendship that Clary and Simon have. It's born of years of knowing each other, years of Simon pining after her, of his life filled to the brim with Clary. Jace can't compete with that. He doesn't have anything to offer in exchange. 

"Jace," Isabelle says. "I have a confession to make."

The nervousness in her voice pulls Jace back from Simon and Clary. He can see the signs immediately, the way Isabelle won't look right at him, how her shoulders are too tense, her posture too correct, even as she leans against the tombstone. She's wearing her most comfortable boots, the ones Alec gave her for her twentieth birthday. 

"What is it?" Jace asks. 

Isabelle exhales shakily. "Alec doesn't know yet, and mom can't know. She'll kill me. And you. You...Jace..."

"Hey," Jace says when Isabelle cuts herself off. He takes her hand and squeezes until Izzy squeezes back. "It's okay," he says. "It's just me."

Isabelle looks at him. She's looking for something, but Jace can't give it to her if he doesn't know what it is.

"Hey," he says. "We're family, Iz. You can tell me whatever it is. I'm not going to leave you."

Isabelle says nothing for the longest time. This stillness is unlike her. 

"Isabelle," Jace says. "What is it?"

They're in the cemetery, leaning against St. Agatha's tombstone. Clary and Simon are lying on the grass some feet away, the sun bright against Clary's hair. She's dipped in gold from her head to her hands. 

"I'm sorry Jace," Isabelle says. "I didn't mean to. It just happened."

"Izzy," Jace says, concern lacing his words. "What is it?"

"It's Clary," Isabelle says. "I'm in love with Clary."

"You're in love with Clary?" Jace asks.

He's caught for a moment between utter relief and extreme delight. The part of him that's always been afraid that Isabelle meant all her flirting with Simon settles down into manageable anxiety. Not that Jace would have ever thought for a second that Isabelle would go after Simon if Jace told her how he felt. She's too caring for that. It would eat her up until she had to tell Jace.

"Wait," he says, catching on. "Are you worried that I'll be mad because you think I like Clary?"

Isabelle sighs and sticks her feet out in front of her. She's watching Clary, the play of the sun on Clary's red hair. Jace should say something to clear up their misunderstanding, but he catches sight of Simon again. He's still not used to the tightness in his chest, and the quick out of beat rhythm his heart plays whenever Simon seems to be turning in Jace's direction. Jace can imagine Isabelle feeling the same as she looks at Clary, possibilities mapped out and crossed out because she's running all the numbers in her head and they're not adding up to anything good. 

"I won't do anything," Isabelle says. "You know that. I won't hurt you like that. I just needed you to know."

Jace looks away from Simon, back at Isabelle. She's watching him, her brown eyes wide with apprehension. She loves him and Jace loves her, and he would die for Alec in a heartbeat, but for Isabelle, Jace would burn down the world.

"I'm not in love with Clary," he says. 

Jace understands the relief in Isabelle's expression all too well, and he wants to tell her, because she has always understood him. Because this, too, Jace knows, she will understand. 

"Oh thank the angel," she says, almost laughing, before Jace's words really hit her. "Wait, but then why are you always staring--oh."

Jace laughs softly. "Yeah," he says, his eyes going back to Simon, who's looking right back. "Oh."

Physical distances are insignificant, especially the one between him and Simon now. They're both four long strides away from each, separated by a couple of tombstones, and Clary and Isabelle's arms. Jace could go over and say something, now that he knows Isabelle isn't wishing the same thing. He could ask Simon out for coffee, out for a movie, out to talk about how Jace hasn't been able to go one day without thinking of Simon.

 _Shadowhunters fall in love quickly, but they fall in love strongly,_ Valentine had said. _It is one of our greatest weaknesses._

Emotional differences and the wide chasm between Jace and everyone except the Lightwoods are a different thing. Jace knows that to love is to destroy, but the Lightwoods are strong enough to overcome that. Even then, it took Jace years to really believe that he wasn't going to hurt them, to understand that he was the one who could prevent it. With Simon, it's too new, too exciting, and Jace knows himself. He is bound to get careless with this. 

"You're staring," Isabelle whispers. 

But so is Simon. 

"Jace," Isabelle says again, softer this time. "I think you should go for it."

Jace inhales. Valentine is still too fresh and Jace still sometimes wishes that Simon hadn't stopped when he was drinking Jace's blood. Anything to just forget for a moment, someone in his bed or a drink in his hand. It's only a thought and Jace never indulges too much, not since Isabelle told him that she was addicted to yin fen. 

Simon is still staring, though.

"Hey Lewis," Jace calls out. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

Clary nudges Simon and Jace watches intrigued as Simon keeps looking back. Jace can't tell what Simon is looking for, but he stares back. The painful beating of his heart becomes background noise to Simon's movements. Simon smiles slow, the side of his face bathed in the light of the setting sun. 

"I was just going to say the same thing to you," Simon calls back. 

"Oh, Jace," Isabelle says, throwing her arms around Jace and pulling him until he's half on the floor, half in her lap. "You're so screwed."

 _Maybe,_ Jace thinks. 

Maybe he is. 

 

*********

 

Isabelle really should have known that Jace was going to trip over himself to get in his own way. She should have known that being in love with Simon would mean that Jace would go out of his way to make sure Simon stayed as far as possible. Isabelle is Jace's sister. She really should have known.

She should also have warned Simon, she thinks, as she watches the sadness in his eyes as he watches Jace flirting across the room. 

*

Simon doesn't notice Isabelle right away because he's too busy watching Jace trip over himself to get to the pretty girl across the room.

"I should have known he didn't mean anything by the staring," Simon says to Isabelle as she comes up next to him. "I should have known he was just bored."

"Jace isn't like that," Isabelle says. She looks at Simon, then at Jace across the room. There's eternal fondness in Isabelle's expression, but also something like sadness, as though whatever Jace carries, Isabelle understands. "We were raised by my mother," she says.

But Simon has seen the way Maryse looks at Jace, how her warmth is divided between her children, how even when Jace was Valentine's son, she came around and remembered that he was her son, too. 

"My mother's love has always been conditional," Isabelle says, though her eyes haven't moved from Jace. "That's kind of hard to swallow even when you're as old as Jace. He hasn't had the practice I've had." 

"Isabelle," Simon says.

Isabelle turns her attention back to Simon, relaxed, smiling, and perfectly at ease. There's nothing immediately sad about her, not in her eternally confident stand, or in her beautiful brown eyes. She's pristine, if a little more composed than usual, a Kennedy of the Shadowhunter world. 

"Go easy on Jace," she says. "Don't let him walk all over you, but don't," she pauses.

She's noticed that Simon can't look away from her, that they're close to opening another door together here.

"He's family," Isabelle says. "He's my family, and he may not be my parabatai, but he's my brother. I know what hurts him and I know that he has a tendency to be an asshole when he feels vulnerable. I know he can hurt the people he least wants to hurt. And I know that he's going to mess up and you shouldn't let him hurt you."

"But, he's your family," Simon says. "I get it."

Isabelle sighs. When she looks back at Simon, her mask is gone. She's still beautiful, still composed, always a Lightwood even when she's in pain. There's nothing seemingly different in her expression, but Simon can recognize that this is another door they've opened together, that she's allowing him into her space. She's sad, and though it might still be hard for others to see, Isabelle has let Simon see it. 

"He doesn't have the practice I do," she says. "And he's already lost his parents twice." 

Simon turns to look at Jace, the way he's leaning against the wall, slouching and artfully ruffled. His hair looks like someone's been running their fingers through it, and when Simon looks away from Jace he sees the woman at ease in Jace's space. She's short, with curtains of beautiful black hair and the vine markings of a Seelie running up her arms and into her neck, the imprints a deeper brown and raised above her brown skin like birthmarks. She's so beautiful it's almost painful to look at her, her entire countenance almost glowing, perfectly put together. Perfectly unattainable. 

She turns, her movements airy, graceful on her toes as though she's poised to fly at any minute. Jace's posture is open, curled away from her, but animated. His eyes are half-lidded and he's watching her because he wants her. 

Simon is aware of Isabelle next to him, but he can't look away from Jace. He says nothing when Isabelle takes his hand, even if that's when Jace decides to look up. His eyes meet Simon's across the room, the space between them swallowed up by all the things they haven't said. Simon can't help the way his eyes slide over to the beautiful Seelie, his flinch when he sees how beautiful she is again, how she's welcome in Jace's personal space. Jace doesn't back down, and Simon is glad Isabelle is tugging on his arm.

"Let's go," she says, kindly. "You don't have to see the rest of this."

Simon sighs. "Yeah," he says, letting Isabelle turn him, putting Jace behind him. "I know a dead end when I see one."

 

**********

 

"So," Jace says. "I see that you and Simon have gotten close."

Isabelle doesn't even pause in her stretches. She's got her staff balanced on her shoulders, her movements fluid, one into the next, the staff barely moving. Jace has always liked to watch Isabelle practice because she's only ever relaxed when it's just the two of them. They don't just train, they have fun, because Isabelle has never needed to prove anything to Jace and Jace has never had to prove anything to her. 

Neither of them are meant to run an Institute. Isabelle because she is too useful everywhere else, because she'd never give up the fieldwork or the lab work. Of the three of them, Alec was the one groomed for leadership. He's the one demanding order and proper stances. But Jace and Isabelle know that fighting is a little dirty, a little uncoordinated. They need a little fun to balance the threat of danger. 

"You know, Jace," Isabelle says as she turns one last time, before dropping her staff down her shoulder and into her hand. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to find an excuse to ignore this thing with Simon."

"There is no thing with Simon," Jace says, automatically. Robotically. 

Isabelle sighs. She shakes her staff once and Jace watches it sink into her whip, easy and fluid. She coils it around her wrist, the malleable electrum turning into hard steel to hang as Isabelle's usual bracelet.

"You know," Isabelle says, and Jace knows he won't like what comes next. "For someone who is probably the most powerful Shadowhunter in Idris, you're a real Lovelace."

"There are no more Lovelaces in Idris," Jace says.

"Yes, well, I know you too well to call you a coward," Isabelle says, as she moves around the training room picking up practice weapons. "Which is why I know that the thing yesterday, with Maria the Seelie, isn't anything serious."

"I had fun," Jace shrugs. "She had fun. It's over. "

Isabelle hums once. She takes a look around the training room, looking for anything she might have left out of place. When she finds nothing, she heads for the seraph blades that she left next to the punching bag. She picks two of them up, her back to Jace. 

"You're hurting him," she says, softly so that Jace knows it's a secret. "I know that's not what you want."

Jace is ready when Isabelle throws him one of the seraph blades. He catches it easily, the metal almost singing in his hands. Now that he knows what he is, he understands this call, the soft pressure from the metal of the blade, the way it feels right every time. This is his birthright. This is what Valentine gave him. And this is why he can't be with Simon.

Angel or not. Demon or not. Jace is and always will be Valentine's son. He saw Sebastian. He saw what happens when a person spends their life with Valentine. There's no way that he came out clean after ten years in Valentine's presence. There's something that Jace can't see, something in him that's meant to hurt, that will always hurt the people he loves the most.

"Stop it," Isabelle says.

She walks over and snatches the seraph blade out of Jace's hand. She tosses it onto the ground and walks right into Jace's space. 

"Listen to me," she says. "I hit the place you're in right now about three months ago. I go to mundane meetings for alcoholics and drug addicts. I talk about it and then I let people tell me that they're proud of me, that they care that I'm getting better. And it helps."

"I know this is hard for you," Isabelle continues. "I know it feels like you're all alone and that no one understands what you're going through. And maybe that's true. But I don't need to feel what you feel to be here for you. And I am here for you. Whatever you need. Even if it's tricking Clary into telling me what the equivalent of AA meetings is for people who need to talk to someone about things they can't tell anyone else."

Jace exhales shakily. "Thank you, Izzy."

Isabelle nods. She leans the rest of the way in and pulls Jace into a tight hug. She smells like the citrus shampoo she's always used ever since Jace gave it her when she turned sixteen, the month after he started calling Maryse mom. It varies now, what Jace calls Maryse, especially with what's happened since they all found out he was Valentine's son. 

"I lost everything," Jace says into Isabelle's hair. "How do I come back from that?"

She hugs him tighter. "I don't know," she says. "But if it helps, you still have me, and Max, and Alec. Even mother."

"So do you," Jace says. "You have Alec, too. For anything, Izzy. He of all people would understand about you and Clary."

"I know," Isabelle says. "But you know Alec. He's only just getting used to being able to want things for himself without having to think about how it will affect the family, or how it'll look to the Clave. He's happy. I want him to have a little more of that before I tell him that Max is mom's only hope for a proper, scandal free, Lightwood heir. We all you know you're anything but scandal free."

"Thank you for thinking so," Jace says.

"Right, well, enough talk for now. I'm going to kick your ass for a bit and then we're going to have breakfast somewhere nice and full of mundanes."

Jace smiles, at ease again. "Okay," he says, picking up the seraph blade Isabelle dropped earlier. "Let's get this over with."

 

******

 

The day Jace kisses Simon, it's a Thursday afternoon. It's light and chaste, almost like Jace is afraid, and it's over so fast Simon is almost sure he imagined it. Except for the way Jace is looking at him, with wide scared eyes, like Simon is the one thing Jace is most afraid of.

"Hey," Simon whispers. 

Jace swallows once. "Hey," he whispers back.

In the open air, out by St. Agatha's tombstone, and under a setting sun, it feels like beginning.


End file.
